Laughing Out Loud
by Jounouchi Kun Joey
Summary: Pietro watches Lance watching the rain on a late New Years Eve night after Asteroid M and muses, with some Matchbox 20 thrown in for good measure. One shot non-slash


A/N: This takes place after the Asteroid M thing, where everyone thinks Magneto is dead, but they don't know for sure. I was just listening to this song when the idea popped into my head. Don't blame me blame Match Box 20! Also, don't ask why everything, the title, the quote, the song fit so well, but they do. All I know is that they do, and you can blame my PietroPlushie muse for it.  
  
*~*  
  
Lyrics  
  
*~*  
  
Disclaimer: Matchbox 20 owns Song, and I have no idea who owns Evo now. Gomen.  
  
Rated: PG-11 for dark subject matter.  
  
Summery: Pietro watches Lance watching the rain on a late New Years Eve night after Asteroid M and muses, with some Matchbox 20 thrown in for good measure. *One shot non-slash ^^*  
  
Title: Laughing Out Loud  
  
By: JKJ (Jounouchi_kun_joey@yahoo.com)  
  
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, for what has been has been; and I have had my hour.  
  
- John Dryden  
  
I sit here, Lance, and I think about all we've gone through this last year. That's what New Years is supposed to be about isn't it? Thinking about what you did wrong the past year so you won't do it again. Problem is, we'll do it again, and again, and a hundred times over! We'll fight, we'll lose, and we'll keep on surviving. Not living, because you can't call going from day to day because you have no other choice living.  
  
To proud to die, to weak to ask for help, to stubborn to admit we're getting nowhere. That's what we're doing; Lance, and we're getting no where, except maybe down to the darkness that threatens to swallow our merry band of misfits alive.  
  
You sense it too, don't you Lance? You can tell that we're spiraling down into nothingness, and we're so powerful with these horrible powers but we can't do a thing about it!  
  
That's why you've been sitting on the porch railing for the last two hours, doing nothing but getting very cold and very wet, and I've been doing nothing but standing here watching you. This has to be the longest I've stood still since I was eight years old, and my powers first showed themselves. I would ask that you please appreciate the effort, but the thing is, it hasn't taken any effort. Time seems to be going at an almost normal speed, at least for now. Not sure why, but I almost wish it would stay this way.  
  
*~*  
  
Something is wrong with the sum of us  
  
That I can't seem to erase  
  
How can I be the only one  
  
Without a smile on my face  
  
*~*  
  
Despite what you believed about me at first, I'm not my father. I barely even knew him, because after our mother died when Wanda and I were five, he all but abandoned us, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I grew up on Kool- aid and Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches; the only thing Wanda knew how to make.  
  
You've never met my sister, Lance. You probably never will, because I am the most cowardly, crappy, prideful, heartbroken twin brother in the world. I just stood there, still and silent like a statue, as my twin sister was dragged into an asylum by two men, the whole time screaming for our father. I could have saved her, and she knew it.  
  
I didn't. I stood there, looking down, wishing I was somewhere else. I couldn't even cry.  
  
*~*  
  
Well now, you're laughing out loud  
  
At just the thought of being alive  
  
And I was wondering  
  
Could I just be you tonight  
  
*~*  
  
Maybe that's why I both hate and adore you, Lance, because you natural act like the older brother I always wanted to be. You're kind; you're considerate, and naturally compassionate. You know what it's like to love and be loved in return, at least you did once. Maybe I did once too, but I can't remember it now. All I can remember is the wanting, the hope that someday Father would look at me, and see more then just some stupid chess piece. He would see a little boy that loved him, that would give his soul for a pat on the head, a cuddle, anything that told me I wasn't just part of the décor.  
  
You weren't meant to be a solider, Lance, of that I am sure. You were never intended to be a rebel without a cause; the kid stuck leading the other children to keep them from the darkness that eventually claims all of us mere mortals. You and Wanda were much too sensitive to be dragged into this, or at least you were originally. A lot has happened since then, and you've throw up walls around your heart to protect it from unwanted intruders, and Wanda...I don't even know if she's still alive. I'd like to think that I would know if she wasn't, but five years is a long time. I hope she's still alive, because I intend to save her someday. When the world is safe for us, when I've made something of myself, when I can keep her safe, I'll run in there and rescue her. At least that's what I keep telling myself. I have to keep telling myself, because if I don't, I'll have to face the reality that I let her down, just like I let father down. I couldn't save her anymore then I could save father all those months ago, and if I allow myself to think that I'm afraid it would kill me.  
  
*~*  
  
You show your pain like it really hurts  
  
And I can't even start to feel mine  
  
Well, I'm standing in place  
  
With my head first and I shake, I shake  
  
I see your progress stretched out for miles and miles  
  
*~*  
  
All this introspection is killing me, Lance. All my masks, and walls, and lies are on the brink of coming down, because I'm thinking just like your thinking. We're on the brink of something that will make us or break us, and we both know what the outcome of that will be. We're four teenage boys, who have already seen how cruel the world can be, on our own. How long do you think we'll last Lance? We've gotten this far, but how much longer can it go on?  
  
You'll survive Lance, I firmly believe that. It's in your character, because you were just made to survive. I can almost see you years from now, with a pretty little wife, and a young mutant boy of your own, that you rock to sleep by creating gentle tremors that shake his cradle. And you'll love him like life itself, you'll make him feel wanted, needed, and you'll guide him through controlling his powers just like you did the rest of us. Mystique didn't do that, you did.  
  
But where will I be in this pretty little picture? What happens to a scrawny little nobody that no one wants and no one loves when the world comes crashing down on his head?  
  
*~*  
  
You're laughing out loud  
  
At just the thought of being alive, yeah  
  
And I was wondering  
  
Could I just be you tonight  
  
*~*  
  
It's five minutes to midnight now, but I don't really care, because I'm thinking about how different you and I are. You care Lance. You have feelings that you can show, you can FEEL. I can't even remember the last time I laughed, or smiled. I mean without the sarcastic, that's not really funny, tone or the triumphant laugh or smirk. I mean a real laugh, a real smile, because I was happy. I don't think I've been happy since Wanda left. She was my better half after all.  
  
What brought us down so far, you and me, Lance? Who gave the world the right to take from us the thing that every child is supposed to have, our innocence? Who said it was right that we had to face the world on our own? And while we're at it, whose brilliant idea was it to lay upon the shoulders of the world's most screwed up teenagers the added burden, that is both a blessing and a curse, of our powers? Who gave the world the right to screw us so bad, huh Lance? Why didn't we get our say in the matter?  
  
I hate this. I hate standing on the edge of things! Why can't we just get on with the inevitable ending to this whole thing? The world is gonna' realize mutants exist, and they're going to hate us, and we're all going to die either of old age or by being martyrs and heroes before the world decides to return to some semblance of normal again. If you want to call this normal.  
  
...I wish I had been the one locked away, instead of Wanda. Maybe then I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of this limbo existence I'm living. You're parents are dead, and you know that for sure, and for all Wanda knows Father is still alive. It's fact, it can't be denied, and it just is. And there is comfort in that fact, even if it is only a small bit. But I don't know! I don't know whether my father is dead or alive, and have no proof of either, and therefore I can't hope, nor mourn for him and all he never said, all that I never said. It's a limbo loss, and I don't know that I can stand it anymore! If Heaven, or fate, or whatever freakin' thing is in charge of my life wants to take him from me, can't they please just get it over and done with so I can grieve for what we could have had, and then move on, instead of keeping me stranded in space and time?  
  
*~*  
  
This is the sound that I make  
  
These are the words I chose  
  
Somehow the right thing to say  
  
Just won't come out  
  
Just won't come out  
  
*~*  
  
I don't think you have any idea how much I envy you, Lance. You'd call me crazy if you knew, but I do. I can't help it. You're everything I've ever wanted to be, but am too much of a coward to believe I can be. I'm supposed to be the leader, but I would much rather follow you then be everything my father expected me to be. I want him to love me, but I can't do what is required to have him love me. Isn't that nice and ironic?  
  
You're the closest thing I've ever had to a friend, Lance, aside from Wanda. You've made me feel like maybe someone on this stupid planet cares that I live or die, made me feel like I could be somebody. I want to be able to do that for someone, but how is that possible when I can't even do it for myself.  
  
I know it's an illusion, and one that will fade away with time, but for now I want to hold on to it. I want to believe that maybe, just maybe, someone somewhere can see me for what I am, and not just what I want them to see. They can see the scared little boy that needs to be loved just as much as everyone else does. They can see passed my façade and really know me. I need to believe that, for my sake. I need some ground to stand on, just as much as you do.  
  
You've been my ground these last few months, but my question is, who's got you, Lance? Who's holding you up?  
  
*~*  
  
And you're laughing out loud  
  
At the thought of being alive  
  
And I was wondering  
  
Could I just be you tonight  
  
*~*  
  
The worlds ending as we both sit here, doing nothing. All the angels are falling, and hope is dieing, and we're not trying to stop it. What's the point anyway? They're just illusions, and so are we. Everything we believe, we hope, we dream, we need, they're only illusions that in time will shatter like glass at our feet. That's what the last ten minutes of musing has taught me. How's that for a bright thought to begin the New Year with, eh?  
  
I turn away from the window as the clock strikes midnight, into the ever elongating shadows and up toward my cold bedroom, but I look back at you climbing off the railing as I do so. You're shivering now, but you look better then you did before your time out there. Obviously you're musings led to a different ending then mine did, and I give you a sad smile you can't see.  
  
"Happy New Year, Lance," I whisper into the darkness in the time before you open the door and I'll have to disappear to avoid a lecture from you, "may your glass not shatter to soon." And with that I'm gone, a whirlwind of the ashes of dreams.  
  
*~*  
  
And I was wondering  
  
could I just be you tonight  
  
*~* 


End file.
